Then say it again. Maybe it'll happen.

I woke up hellishly early this morning to take the civil service test, which I found rather easy and sort of enjoyed. The proofreading section was fun. All in all, though, I really didn't put as much effort into my job search as I should have last week. Perhaps that's why I had such a depressing dream when I took a nap earlier this evening. In my dream, it was December, I was sitting on the loveseat in the living room, and I could hear Christmas songs playing on the radio in the kitchen. I thought it was so strange that it was already December, because it still felt like I had just gotten back from France. I still hadn't found a job, I was still living with Mom, and I remember thinking that one year ago, last December, I was at teaching a lesson about Christmas with Marie-France. (When she asked if I had a good Christmas song we could play, I suggested "Louisiana Christmas Day." Bad idea.)

Sara and I went to the library this afternoon, something I've been meaning to do since I got back. It was great to be back in a library of books that I could actually read. There are three books on my to-read list right now: Nim's Island, My Fifteen Minutes (autobiography of Sybil Jason), and Child Star (autobiography of Shirley Temple). This evening Sara and I watched The Children's Hour, which was somewhat disappointing. It bordered on a talkathon, and two child actresses were mediocre; I've heard that Bonita Granville and Marcia Mae Jones are much more impressive in These Three, the '30s version of the film.

Me to Sara: "If you ever tried to make a YouTube video, you would realize how much work it really is, and you'd go back to your baby name lists where you belong!"